Sleep in Heavenly Peace
by CastlesInTheAir
Summary: Dedicated to every other Aussie, seeing as we don't get the Christmas Invasion. Brisbane, Australia. It's Christmas day, 1966, and Tegan is in for a big surprise...


**Sleep In Heavenly Peace**

_Brisbane, Australia_

_Christmas 1966_

'_Silent Night, Holy Night.  
All is calm, all is bright…_'

A small girl stood, hands pressed flat against the glass cabinet, watching the record player with a childlike expression of awe. Round and round she followed the tiny black grooves through the glass, grinning delightedly. She didn't have a clue what alliscome, allisbright meant, but she couldn't have cared less.

'_Round yon virgin, Mother and child,  
Holy Infant so tender and mild…_'

The girl blinked her large brown eyes and pressed a turned up nose against the glass, watching it fog up instantly. She chuckled quietly and breathed harder, trying to write her name before the fog disappeared.

"Tegan!"

The girl threw a quick glance over her shoulder, hurriedly balled her fist and tried to rub the fog away.

"Tegan Jovanka! Come here, right this instant!"

Tegan rubbed the remaining fog away from the glass, took one last, lingering look at the spinning record, then ran as fast as her tiny legs could carry her into the kitchen.

"Mummy?"

"Tegan! Come when I call you please. Where were you? What were you up to?"

"But mum-"

"Don't say 'but' to me, young lady! Now where were you?"

"_Mummy_…"

"I don't like that tone of voice, young lady! Now apologise, please."

Tegan folded her arms and sighed as loudly as she dared.

"Sorry."

"That's better, love. Now Aunty Jessica and your cousins are on their way, and Uncle Jim and Aunty Vanessa will be getting here any minute. Change into your good dress please, and switch on the fan in the loungeroom. It's sweltering!"

"_Mum…_"

"Go, Tegan! Go!"

Tegan nodded semi-obediently, but twisted her face into a grimace when her mother turned her back. How she hated that dress. It was pink and silly and flouncy and the sleeves puffed up, and when she climbed the bottle-brush tree in the front yard it got caught on things, and the boys could see up it and they'd make fun of her.

Her mum said she'd get used to wearing dresses, but she was already six years old, and if she hadn't gotten used to it by now, then she knew she never would.

Tegan turned and scurried into the lounge room, almost knocking into Grandfather's legs. He was sitting on the lounge, with his hands clasped across his large belly, and he was snoring loudly. Whenever Grandfather snored, he was resting his eyes, said Grandma. His eyes must have needed an awful lot of rest, Tegan thought, because he always seemed to be snoring.

She skipped around him and pressed a little thumb onto the big plastic fan switch. It gave a shudder, much like every appliance in the Jovanka household, squeaked strangely and then started blowing cool air in her face.

The little girl chuckled, and sang her name into the fan, loving the funny, disjointed sound her voice made. Then she hurtled up the stairs, much faster and louder than Grandma would have liked, singing the words to the Christmas carol that she knew, and making up the ones she didn't..

'Silent night, Hole…eeeeee night…'

She grabbed her ugly pink dress by the hem and pulled it straight off its hanger, sending it clattering to the bottom of the wardrobe.

'Mmmm mmm… Alliscome, allisbright…'

Quick as lighting she swapped her T-shirt and shorts for the dress, shrugging it over her shoulders and jiggling around so it fell into place. She looked in the little mirror that Grandfather had fixed onto the wall at just the right height, and scowled. Somehow the sleeves looked even more puffy on her skinny arms, and even the tiny paintbrush pigtails Mum had tortured her short, boyish hair into didn't make her look any nicer. Mummy always told her that she was very pretty, but the other kids at school didn't say so.

Downstairs the front door opened, and Tegan heard voices floating upward that weren't her mum's. She peered cautiously around the doorway, checking that the hall was free of people. She listened hard, and heard the telltale sounds of her Grandmother creaking down the stairs. When you lived in a big, old, noisy house with people coming and going, it wasn't long before you recognised everyone just by the sounds they made. Tegan could tell without looking exactly who was coming up the stairs, and wether or not they were coming to tell her off.

Tegan crept slowly down the hallway, sneaking around the floorboards that creaked and pretending she was an explorer creeping through the forest trees. She was looking for treasure. Blue treasure, for the bowerbirds. She wasn't wearing a pink dress with puffy sleeves. She was wearing a T-shirt and shorts and nobody told her to take them off and nobody called her a boy, and she even had an explorer's hat and her name was Mrs Crusoe, and she was searching for a long-lost treasure, a blue one, that only she could find because she was the bravest adventurer of them all…

"Merry Christmas, Sadie!"

Tegan shook her head, rather like a dog shaking water off its back, and reached out to grasp the wooden banisters on the landing. She thrust her nose between them and peered down as hard as she could. There was Aunty Vanessa – or half of her, at least – holding a bottle of wine and kissing her mum on the cheek. Uncle Jim followed. Uncle Jim was very quiet, he never said much, but Tegan liked him, almost as much as her Dad. He liked to bounce her up and down on his legs, and she liked it as well.

Maybe Uncle Jim would bounce her on his lap this Christmas, too, since Dad wasn't home.

"Just through this way, Jim. Vanessa, could you put that on the bench? Thanks. Tegan? Tegan! Where are you?"

Tegan squeezed her eyes shut, and pretended she wasn't there.

"Tegan? Tegan! There you are."

Tegan opened her eyes. There was Mummy, wiping her hands on her apron and staring up at her through the banisters.

"Why don't you come down, love? Everyone wants to see you."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes you do, sweetheart. Uncle Jim and Aunty Vanessa are here. You could show them to the lounge room, love."

Tegan heaved another meaningful sigh.

"But _mummy…_"

"No buts, Tegan. Come downstairs, young lady. You look lovely, I don't know what you're complaining about."

She didn't want to go downstairs in her dress. She didn't want to show her Aunty and Uncle into the lounge room. She wasn't in the mood to be treated like a little kid, she wasn't in the mood to be told what to do… So she did what she was good at. She tried to find another way out.

"Mummy, can I take a present down to the bowerbird?"

"What, Tegan?" Said her mother, glancing distractedly out to the kitchen and wiping her hands on her apron again.

"Can I take a Christmas present to the bowerbird? And can I say happy Christmas to Dalinkua?"

"Love, I don't think Dalinkua celebrates Christmas, and we've got nothing blue around the house."

"Can I, Mum? _Please?_"

"Well…" Mrs Jovanka glanced distractedly at the kitchen once more. "Okay. Take a look through the peg bucket and see if you can find a blue one."

Tegan grinned. "Thanks, Mum."

"Don't be long. And be careful. And don't run! Tegan? Tegan!" Her mother called, but Tegan was already off and running, down the wooden spiral staircase at the back of the house and out through the back door. For a moment, Sadie breathed in deeply, as if she was about to call out in a temper, then she dropped her arms and sighed. Turning to go back to the kitchen, she murmured under her breath.

"Don't know where she gets it from… I wasn't nearly as much… strong-willed… stubborn minded… darling… incorrigible… sweetheart…"

The air outside was hot and thick. So thick, it was the kind of Christmas day that could only be found in wonderful Brisbane – the kind where you had to push your way through the air as if it was a great, big, heavy curtain, and the moment you stood still you felt as though you were being boiled, baked and fried all at once.

Every step Tegan took through the bush was like stepping on a thousand pinecones. _Crunch, crunch, crunch _went her feet on the thick sheet of dried gum leaves that covered the ground. _Crunch, crunch… _she liked the sound, it was nice and regular and familiar, and made her feel at home. She kicked a patch of brown leaves up with one foot, satisfied at the colossal crunch she produced. A sudden thought occurred to her as she did so, that Dalinkua wouldn't have been happy, so she tried to kick the patch back together with her thongs. There – it looked as good as new. Maybe he wouldn't notice.

Tegan kept on walking through the bush, satisfied with the regular crunching of her tiny feet. She clutched a bright blue peg in one hand. She hadn't been able to find it in the peg bucket, but she'd managed to wind down the hills hoist and take it off a pair of Mum's underwear. Mummy would understand. It was a Christmas present to the bowerbird.

The little girl swung her puffed sleeves happily. She almost didn't mind wearing the silly dress, now that she was out of sight and had nobody's company but her own. There was nobody to tease her or tell her she was a boy, no grown-ups to tell her that she was pretty… because she knew the truth. She was old enough to know it, by now. Sometimes, grown-ups said things that they didn't really mean. Like Aunty Vanessa, saying how grown up she was. Like Dad, telling her that he would bring her a whole cardboard box of potato chips when he came home next… Yes, she was old enough to know the truth. She couldn't really be pretty. Of course Aunty Vanessa didn't really think she was grown up.

She was old enough to take care of herself. Dalinkua had told her stories – about being kipper. Kipper was a person who had become a grown-up… who was old enough to be part of the dances, and part of the hunt. Maybe she was old enough to be kipper. Maybe she could be part of the hunt… to save the bowerbird's treasure… She clutched the blue peg fondly. Bowerbirds loved blue stuff, everybody knew that. Everybody…

Tegan stopped. The ground was getting softer, and she could hear the trickle of running water. That meant she'd reached the creek. She darted between two large gum trees and her landed in soft, wet mud. With a flurry of excitement, she shook the rubber thongs off her feet, picked a fallen log and sat, dangling her toes into the trickling water. It felt nice and cold, and she sighed, with a rather adult sense of relief.

Tegan closed her eyes. It was something she always liked to do, something that had always seemed so magic back to the earliest time she could remember – she only had to close her eyes and she was on her own, everybody else was gone. Open her eyes, and someone would reappear. Close them again, they were gone. Open them, close them, and she was alone and content in her very own secret garden…

Dalinkua had told her about the plants here, too. Boondall was the big one, that grew where there was lots of water. It was very thirsty, it liked to drink a lot, even too much… it was greedy. Mum always told her it was bad to be greedy. The Sunday school teacher said you went to hell if you were greedy. And if you sinned. Matty Jones had leaned over and told her that her Dad was going to hell. So, Tegan had told Matty Jones that he was going to hell too, if he wouldn't stop scratching rude words into the church pews with his mum's hairpins.

Matty Jones didn't like Dalinkua, either. He said that anyone who talked to him was funny in the head. Tegan didn't think Dalinkua was funny in the head. He was very smart, he knew everything about the bush, and he had taught her lots of things. He was her friend. Something else, very important, that he had taught her – Indooroopilly. Running water. Everybody needed it to live. And it was a very nice thing, especially on such a hot day…

_Crunch._

Tegan sat bolt upright, alert and wide-eyed.

Somebody was there. Somebody was stepping on the leaves. She listened carefully.

_Crunch._

There it was again. It couldn't have been Dalinkua. He didn't make a sound when he walked through the bush. He just came and went…

_Crunch._

Tegan scurried off the log and shoved her feet into her thongs. Her heart was beating faster than usual, and she kept glancing wildly around her, searching for somewhere, anywhere that the noise could be coming from. She heard it again, and suddenly, she felt very scared, and not nearly old enough to take care of herself.

_Crunch._

She glanced to the left and to the right, clutched her blue peg tightly, felt her legs take a few involuntary steps, then gave into the impulse and ran for it.

She whipped through the bush, leaping over non-existent undergrowth, dodging gum trees and skittering over dried leaves. Her heart pounded in her throat, and she could only think about how she'd heard her mum tell her to be careful, and not to run, and how she was doing an awful job of it…

All of a sudden Tegan collided with something large and solid, and went sprawling across the dried gum leaves. The blue peg flew out of her hand as she hit something hard, rolling into a tangled, gasping heap. Something stung badly on her hands, badly enough to make her eyes water with pain but she couldn't think about anything else but her mum wiping her hands on her apron as she shook, waiting to see what had knocked her over.

It seemed like forever until she heard a gruff, growling voice.

"Well, well. Hello, then. What do we have here? Ain't it Jovanka?"

Tegan peered out from beneath shaking hands, and realised that there was a person standing over her. She shielded her eyes from the sunlight that framed a large silhouette, trying desperately to see who it was.

"This isn't the place for a young girl like you." The face leaned in closer, and Tegan could smell something funny. Something in the person's breathing, that reminded her of what her Dad smelled like after he'd been to the pub in town. She shuddered.

"Never know who's about."

As the face blocked out the sunlight, Tegan suddenly recognised it.

"Mr Jones!" She squeaked. Matty Jones's dad. She remembered liking him about as much as she liked Matty Jones.

"Well well, then." Drawled Mr Jones, straightening to his full height again. "She knows who I am."

In many ways, Mr Jones appeared to be an older version of his son. Grey-green eyes stared out from beneath suspicious eyebrows; his skin looked as though it should have been much paler, but had a stretched, almost leathery texture from too many days out in the harsh sun. A thick stubble coated his strong jawbone and his upper lip, which seemed to be in a perpetual, irreversible snarl. He wasn't grotesque, by any means.

But right now, she felt he was the ugliest person she'd ever seen. Her tiny chest heaved. She furrowed her eyebrows, screwed up her nose and frowned as hard as she possibly could.

"You're a naughty man, Mr Jones."

Mr Jones circled her sluggishly while she struggled to her feet and wiped her watering eyes. He jeered at her. Tegan frowned even harder when he seemed amused and grinned lifelessly, shrugging and lifting his arms in a mock surrender.

"Have I, now, Miss Jovanka?"

Tegan nodded furiously, and followed his swaggering walk with her eyes.

"I know where you've been."

"Do you now?" He continued to circle her, like an overgrown horse in the training pen at Pony club.

"_You've _been at the pub." Said Tegan accusingly. Mr Jones smiled again.

"On Christmas day?"

She nodded again. All of a sudden his circling ceased. Something in his eyes seemed to change, from being lethargically amused, to being dark and furious. His leering smile faded, and before Tegan had time to yell, he closed in on her. She whimpered and tried to run, but he gripped her shoulders hard and shook her. Shook her so violently she yelped, and screamed.

"You've been hanging out with that boong, haven't you," he breathed intensely, eyes wide and manic. Tegan had never felt more scared in her life. She tried to wrench herself away from his grip, but when she didn't respond, he shook her harder and bellowed.

"HAVEN'T YOU?"

Tegan cowered and started to cry.

"_Shut up_, girl! THAT BOONG! The blackfella, Dalinka or whatever his name his. Been making friends with him, haven't you? _Haven't you?_"

Tegan whimpered again and a small sob escaped her lips. "Yes."

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Roared Mr Jones.

"Yes!" Tegan cried, the pain in her hands and her sholders throbbing.

"I knew it." He spat, anger rising in his bright eyes. He was so close she could see every hair on his chin, every line on his forehead, smell every bit of his stale breath. "My boy's told me all about you. Thinks you're the Queen, don't you?"

"Where's mum?" Tegan quivered, "I want my mum!"

"DON"T YOU?" Bellowed Mr Jones.

"No, _no! _I don't!" She cried, shoulders burning under his grip. "I don't, I don't!"

"Told my son he's going to hell, didn't you, little cow?"

Tegan felt everything burning. Her stomach, her heart beating wildly in her throat, his hands, holding her tightly so she couldn't run away, his stale breath, but most of all his eyes – burning a hole in hers, so she couldn't look away.

And she couldn't lie. She _had_ told Matty Jones he was going to hell.

She nodded.

"I'll tell you something, Jovanka." Growled Mr Jones, gripping her shoulders even more tightly, if possible. "The only ones who're going to hell are you're stinkin' Dad, for up and leavin'-"

"No, no!" Tegan shook her head furiously. Tears streaked the dirt on her face.

"-and you and that blackfella!"

"_No!_"

"You talk to his type, little cow. Don't you know all of 'em go to hell, and so do all who talk to his type?"

"NO!" Screamed Tegan. In an instant the burning sensation in her stomach boiled over, and she seemed to lose control over what she was doing. She couldn't remember swinging her leg back to kick Mr Jones hard in the shin. She couldn't remember exactly how she'd wormed out of his grip, or how she'd stopped from tripping over the fallen branch beside them, only to find that when she had her senses about her again Mr Jones was bellowing in pain and she was running as fast as she possibly could.

And there was something else, a strange sound that seemed to be coming from everywhere and yet nowhere all at once. A strange, mechanical sound that couldn't have been a Kookaburra, and Tegan was sure she could feel a slight breeze…

"Come back here, girl!" Roared Mr Jones. "Get back here, I'll take you to hell now, while you're Dad ain't here!"

Tegan ran without looking back, her chest heaving with frightened sobs.

"GET BACK HERE!"

Tegan could hear his heavy footfalls, his steel capped boots crushing the leaves and twigs, she could hear the drunken fury in his voice, in her mind she could see his terrible eyes… then all of a sudden he had hold of her ankles and she was sent sprawling for the second time that day.

"Hold… still…"

"Gettoff me!" Tegan kicked, thrashed, and writhed every part of her that she possibly could.

"It ain't right… for you to talk… to his type…"

"Let go!"

"Dad ain't here to save you, kid, there ain't no one hear to save you, NO ONE, YOU HEAR?"

"GETTOFF, LET ME GO!"

"You heard the child, Mister."

Suddenly, everything went still. Tegan stopped thrashing, and Mr Jones loosened his grip on her ankles. Immediately she rolled out of reach and backed away as far as she could, desperate to get away from Matty Jones's dad. Then she saw the scene for what it was. Mr Jones, lying on the ground, stock still, recoiling from her saving grace…

"Dalinkua…" She breathed, her voice filled with awe. A toweringly tall, strong Aboriginal was standing right beside Mr Jones, and his very presence seemed to fill the grown man with fear.

"She bin stronger than you, Mister. Put up a fight, she did."

Mr Jones suddenly reared back his head and spat, full force, at the Aboriginal's feet. Dalinkua didn't move a muscle.

"Stay back." Growled Mr Jones, sliding himself away on the covering of leaves. "I'm warning you, stay back."

Dalinkua remained where he was.

"You bin stay away from her, Mr Jones. Only the lowest take on a child. You watch yourself – she got protection."

"Yeah?" Mr Jones growled louder, struggling off the ground. "How's that when her old man's shot through?"

"She got protection from me."

Mr Jones flexed his hands for a moment, glancing back and forwards between Tegan and Dalinkua, as if not sure who he wanted to attack more. Tegan shivered with fear, but Dalinkua stayed where he was, staring intently back at Mr Jones.

The effect was enough. Mr Jones cursed, spat once more, and ambled away into the bush.

There was a few moments of silence. Dalinkua, staring after Mr Jones with his dark, penetrating gaze and Tegan barely daring to breathe. It was a Kookaburra that broke the silence, and Tegan suddenly realised where she was, how scared she had been and just how relieved she was to see Dalinkua.

She cried out loud and breathed all too quickly, a fresh stream of tears pouring down her cheeks. As she struggled to her feet, a jumble of words spilled from her mouth, as she tried desperately to explain to Dalinkua what had happened.

"I told Matty Jones he was going to hell… he said it first! He was so mean… He'd been at the pub… Mr Jones… Christmas day… told me I was going to hell… said you and Dad were, too… wouldn't let me go! He's too big, too scary, I couldn't get away-"

Dalinkua raised a single hand to silence her. That was all it took. She stopped spitting out words hysterically, and cried quietly. The tall man smiled down at her.

"You put up a fight, Miss Tegan. Ran fast, you did. He bin long gone… you're safe, now."

Tegan wiped her eyes with her hands.

"He was going to get me…"

"Hey, you got protection from me."

Dalinkua placed a kind hand on her shoulder, and despite her tears, Tegan managed a small smile.

"Does that… mean… I'm kipper, now?"

Dalinkua's smile became even wider, his white teeth shone in the sunlight streaming through the high branches.

"Yes, kipper. You taringa – strong. You can look after yourself."

"Thankyou for helping me, Dalinkua."

"It makes me happy to, Miss Tegan."

Tegan sniffled, gazing up at the tall, dark man affectionately.

"But how did you know where I was?"

"Somebody told me." Dalinkua said, with a knowing smile. Tegan frowned.

"He said there was no one around… to help me…"

"Wrong, wasn't he? I met a special person. Came running fast, she did. Said you were in trouble."

"Who was it?"

Again, Dalinkua smiled knowingly.

"Someone special. And," he paused, leaning a little closer, "she spoke in _my _language. How about it?"

Tegan gave a childlike gasp of awe.

"Really? Where is she?"

"Might wanna try the bowerbird, I think he knows a thing or two, that one."

"Okay. Thankyou. I… I was going to give him a present."

"Ahh… he always likes a gift, the bowerbird."

"Um…" Tegan paused for a moment, just remembering something her mum had said. "Merry Christmas, Dalinkua."

"Merry Christmas to you, kipper."

Tegan smiled thankfully up at her friend, she'd have to remember to tell Mum that he did know about Christmas after all. She turned to leave, feeling more grateful for him than she ever had before. When she'd taken a few steps, however, she looked back over her shoulder, just to check.

She wasn't surprised at all to find Dalinkua was gone.

Tegan found the tiny clearing with the bowerbird's nest in no time at all, even though the bowerbird wasn't there. The little bower of dry grass was there, surrounded, as always, with a collection of blue things.

"Bowerbirds love blue stuff, everybody knows that…" Tegan murmured to herself. She was thinking fondly about the blue peg she had been going to give him. The blue peg that she'd dropped somewhere in the bush, that she would probably never find again…

"Hello, there."

There, sitting on a dry, fallen log, was a lady. Tegan hadn't noticed her there, she had been very quiet. This must be the special person Dalinkua had told her about. Tegan stared at her apprehensively. She was dressed all in white, and she was pretty, even if her hair was very short. She knew from Sunday school that Angels were dressed all in white, and Kylie Watchers said that they were pretty, too… but no one had ever said that angels had short hair. She immediately began to feel much happier about her own short, boyish haircut.

"Are you an angel?" Tegan asked bluntly, taking a step closer. The lady looked at her and gave a funny sort of chuckle without smiling, that made Tegan frown.

"Far from it. I'm just passing through."

"Oh."

Silence. A Kookaburra laughed somewhere in the distance.

"Did you tell Dalinkua about me?" Tegan asked, again bluntly. The lady looked at her, and Tegan noticed that she had brown eyes. They even looked a bit like Mummy's. Maybe she even reminded her of Mummy. There was something strange that made her seem trustworthy…

"Yes I did." Said the lady directly, and although she couldn't explain why, Tegan liked her. She went to sit down next to her, and watched her closely.

"I'm Tegan Jovanka. What's your name?"

The lady looked at her funnily, like the way Mum looked at her when she was trying not to cry. Tegan knew that look very well, it happened when she asked a lot of questions about Dad.

"I'm just… a friend." Said the lady, with a funny waver in her voice. Tegan, although still a little apprehensive about strangers, felt sorry for the lady and desperately wanted to be nice to her.

"Mum calls me mouth on legs a lot, but don't like it. I came here to visit the bowerbird," Tegan went on, "And Dalinkua. I wanted to tell them Merry Christmas, and I even had a present to give to the bowerbird but…" she sighed heavily, "…I dropped it. It was blue and everything."

"Blue?" The lady questioned.

"Bowerbirds love blue stuff, ev-"

"-everybody knows that…" Finished the lady suddenly, and Tegan looked astounded.

"How did you know that?"

"Just something… I remembered…" The lady said, more to herself than anybody else. It was as if she was visiting her secret garden, too, until all of a sudden she turned to look at Tegan.

"How old are you?"

"I'm six, silly." Giggled Tegan. For some reason, she thought the lady should have known _that_.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt? Where you… scared?"

Tegan's smile faded. "Usually I'm brave." She admitted honestly. "I'm not scared of putting my face underwater, or of daddy-long-legs, or any other spiders, or of dragonflies, or of snakes-"

"Things change." Muttered the lady under her breath.

"-but I… I was really scared of Mr Jones. He smelled funny, and he was holding me tightly like this-" Tegan gripped herself around the shoulders to show the lady what had happened, "And I thought he was going to do something… bad to me."

"I thought he was going to hurt me…" said the lady to herself, almost incredulously.

"Yeah." Whispered Tegan.

For a moment, the pair sat side by side, leaning forward and hugging their knees slightly, each unaware they were doing the same thing. Then the lady started to talk quietly to herself.

"And I was scared to go to sleep, that night, because every shadow on the wall looked like _him…_"

Tegan stared at the older lady, not entirely sure what was going on. Her voice grew louder and louder as she went on. She now realised that the lady was dressed in T-shirt and shorts, and wondered why she couldn't wear things like that…

"…and I still can't get to sleep, you know. Such terrible nightmares. The Doctor says I'm perfectly fine, that I'm perfectly free of that thing, but I just don't know, I don't believe him…"

Tegan's eyes grew wide and so did the lady in white's. For a moment, they stared at each other, each taking in just how very brown the other's were, until all of a sudden, the lady started to cry.

Tegan drew back in surprise. The only time she'd ever seen an adult cry had been when she'd sneaked up to her mother's bedroom door and found her sobbing quietly to herself on the bed, and Grandma had bustled her out of the way before she could even go in… but never like this. Never so close.

She'd thought that only kids ever cried.

"There there, it's okay…" said Tegan timidly, using the exact words mum said to her whenever she was crying. The lady only seemed to cry harder, though. Whenever that happened to her, her mum always sang to her… Tegan picked the first song that came to her mind, singing in a soft, high voice.

"Silent night, hole-ee night,

Alliscome, allisbe-right…"

She patted the lady on the back. When she did, she felt a funny tingling sensation travel up her fingers and down her spine. It might have only been her, but she was sure the wind blew a little colder for a second. She kept singing.

"Roun-john-virgum, mother anchild,

Hole-ee-infintso tender and mild…"

She stroked the lady's back, and all of a sudden felt like she'd touched an electric fence. She snapped her hand back, but there was a funny feeling in her head. She couldn't really explain, she didn't really need to… somehow, she knew this lady, she'd known her all her life, and this lady knew her too. Knew everything about her. Every single thing…

Holding her breath, Tegan leaned in and whispered, "Do you know lots about me?"

The lady sobbed, but nodded.

"Do you know what kipper is?"

She nodded again.

Tegan gathered all her breath. There was a very important question that she just had to ask.

"What does 'shot through' mean?"

The lady looked at her with red, puffy eyes. She seemed to be having great difficulty talking.

"It means-" she gulped, "Not coming back."

Tegan felt like a stone had been dropped in her stomach.

"My Dad's a truckie." She said, quietly. "Sometimes he goes away for a long time."

The lady nodded. "And sometimes he comes back. But one day, he doesn't bring potato chips. But it's more than that… he… he… one day, he won't come back."

Tegan, all too suddenly, knew exactly what she was talking about. Before she could talk, her eyes filled with tears, too.

"Why do grown-up people say things they don't really mean?" She asked shakily.

"Because," said the lady, "They don't want truth to be real either. They want to keep pretending. Sometimes… it hurts less, that way."

"Maybe," said Tegan, in a wobbly voice, "I'm not old enough to know the truth."

The lady sniffed, but gave a tiny smile.

"Yes you are. You're kipper, right?"

"Yeah, I'm kipper."

"Taringa – strong. That's what you have to be. For yourself, and for your mum, alright?"

"Alright." Sobbed little Tegan, looking down at the ground.

"One day we'll be alright…" whispered the lady. "Brave heart, Tegan…"

"…Brave Heart…"

"Here, take this. I thought you might need it."

Tegan felt something hard and cool being slipped into her hand. She looked down to see a blue stone. Round and perfectly smooth around the edges, like a piece of glass washed up on the beach, smoothed and cleaned by the crashing waves and the sand. It was beautiful, and she knew exactly what to do with it.

She looked up to thank the lady, but was met by the sight of an empty log. Tegan looked all around her, but the lady was gone, almost as quickly as she had appeared.

Suddenly Tegan heard a strange sound, like the sound she'd heard when she'd been running away from Mr Jones. A mechanical, grinding, whirring sound only somehow, it was comforting. And through the trees, she was sure she saw a flash of blue, that was there for a moment, then gone…

"Bowerbirds love blue stuff, everybody knows that," murmured Tegan to herself. She placed the blue stone down gently, next to the bower nest, amongst a growing collection of blue pegs, lolly wrappers and other blue things.

Tegan turned around to leave. Mum would probably be getting worried about her, by now. But there was something else she had to think about. There was something in the back of her mind, something about that lady that she was sure she understood… or was it something she remembered? Or was going to remember? Or had already known? She wasn't sure. But somehow, she knew she would find out.

She remembered the rest of the song, though. she remembered it perfectly.

"Sleep in heavenly peace,

Sleep in heavenly peace."

And she didn't doubt it one bit.


End file.
